as long as it takes
by graceviolets
Summary: It's their ten year High School reunion and eight years since they last met. Or nine. If they can be civil to each other for seven days, they won't have to see each other in another eight years. Or nine. Or ever. However, many things can happen in one week.
1. Chapter 1

"Please be nice" Rachel begged. "This is a big deal to all of us."  
"I'm always nice" Quinn said and looked pointedly out of the airplane window.

Below her was the great city of New York, the greatest place in the world, which she was leaving for the first time in years. It almost tugged at her heart when she thought of it. She was heading for unsafe turf.

"You know what I mean" Rachel sighed.

"Who is this is a big deal for?" Santana asked, scoffing. "It's a ten year High School reunion. Nobody in their right mind should care."

"And still you are coming with us."  
"I got the week off" Santana shrugged.

"You realize that a week is too much time for reunion" Quinn said for maybe the eighth time. "You're supposed to say hi, eat a hamburger, get drunk and then make out with someone you will later regret even touching. Then you go back to your old life. That's how it works."

"No" Rachel corrected her. "That's how it _normally _works. We are not normal. We are special. All of us. That's why I prepared all of this. A week at my parents' lake house is barely enough time for us to make up for all lost time, but it's what we have to work with."

Quinn sighed. She wondered why she had let Rachel talk her into joining this stupid parade of nostalgia. Santana was right; people who went to (or even worse _planned_) High School reunions were the people who had been in their prime during their teens. Quinn's prime was now. Actually, so was Rachel's, which made it even stranger that she had spent almost a year organizing this thing.

"How many are actually coming?" she asked. "You remember that you weren't the most popular kid in High School, right?"  
Rachel took no offense. She picked up her small container of moisturizer and she covered her hands in the light pink liquid before answering.

"I must admit that most people did not even RSVP. Very rude. However, most of our fellow Glee members are coming. The three of us, Mercedes, Mike, Brittany, Puck and Kurt, of course. Tina, Sam and Artie too, even though they strictly did not graduate with us, I felt like my High School years would not have been the same without them."

Puck. Quinn sighed. Of course he was coming. He probably had nothing better to do than to take a week of work to do trust exercises with his old buddies. She had had to beg for a leave, her first in three years. Her boss had agreed to it finally, but only if she kept her phone on at all times. Quinn had promised and hoped that the lake house would have reception.

"Mr. Shue is coming down too" Rachel went on. "But only for the weekend."  
"Mr. Shue? God, how pathetic is he" Santana drawled.

"He loves us very much."  
Santana snickered. Quinn sighed again. She regretted this already. Maybe she could excuse herself after two days, blame a work crisis or something, and fly back home. To Henry and their apartment and only spending people who actually mattered in her life.

"It'll be fun" Rachel promised. "I swear. Everyone is very excited."  
"I think that's the problem" Quinn mumbled.

…

Puck slammed the car door shut and leaned against it for a minute while taking in the huge lake house. Sure, the Berry's were loaded, he had always known that, but this? The big wooden villa lay on the lake shore, far away from any neighbors. Puck wondered if there was a reason for the secluded location; if Hiram and Leroy had secrets that they could not act on in Lima, in fear of being excluded from the community. He didn't care though. He was just pleased to get out of Detroit for a week. He actually felt healthier just breathing in the fresh air.

"Noah!"

He jumped and turned around to see Rachel Berry was running towards him, a big grin on her face and waving frantically.

"Hey" he called back.

She hugged him tightly and he hugged her back. He hadn't seen her in years, apart from on the ads for the Broadway shows she starred in and the Tony acceptance speech he had watched on Youtube. She looked the same, older and maybe a bit graver after Finn's death, something she always managed to hide in the commercials.

"How are you?" she asked. "How was the drive?"  
"Long" he laughed. "I'm fine. How are you?"  
"I'm so happy. Come on, take your stuff in. I'll show you your room. You'll be sharing with Sam and Mike. Hope that's okay."  
"Sure thing."  
He took his bag from the trunk and locked the car behind him. Rachel almost jogged next to him as they walked on the small path to the house.

"This is one hell of house" he said.

"Yeah" she said. "My dads' always dreamed of one like this. When I got my first really big paycheck, I could finally give it to them. I mean, we still had to take a loan, but you know."  
They stepped inside. The kitchen and living room together made a big, airy room with a fire burning in the corner. In front of it sat Santana, painting her nails red and reading a magazine. She turned around at the sound of the door and waved lazily.

"You okay, Puckerman?" she called.

"You know it."  
She smiled. Santana was the only one he still met occasionally. She was also the one who had convinced him to come to the reunion, frankly by threatening his life. She had made it clear that she did not want to do it alone and thereby, he would have to come too. He hadn't put up much of a fight. In contrast to Santana, he didn't see a week by a lake as a punishment.

"Your room is up the stairs, it's the one on the right. Sam and Mike haven't gotten here yet so you get to pick beds. Or more like bed or inflatable mattress" Rachel told him as she pressed an opened beer into his hand.

"Lucky me" he said and made his way up the staircase.

This wouldn't be that bad. Santana was here and Rachel seemed happy and Sam was coming too. There was nothing wrong with meeting up with some old friends, drinking beer and thinking back to old times.

"Hello."

He looked up. She stood in front of him. Eight or nine years older. Still blonde and slim and beautiful. Her hair was shorter and she wore glasses and a strict pencil skirt.

"Hi Quinn" he said.

"Hello" she said again.

He had guessed that she might be here, even though Santana always complained about that all she ever did was work and work and work. He had prepared for seeing her again and still it did not help. He felt equal attraction and dislike. She didn't run up and give him a huge like Rachel had. She passed him on the stairs without another word. He looked after her. She was not going to ruin this for him, he decided, and took a swig of his beer.

…

When he came back down the stairs the girls were making lunch. Soft jazz was playing quietly as they crowded in the kitchen, chopping and stewing and whatever.

"Puck! Great. You can slice the tomatoes" Rachel said, taking the empty beer from him and replacing it with a big knife.

"Sure" he said,

"Move over, Quinn" Rachel told her. "We can make space for one more."  
Quinn moved over a few inches but she was still close. If he stretched out his elbow, it would touch hers. He kept his arms closed to his sides as Rachel placed a bag of tomatoes in front of him. He sliced them carefully, keeping all his attention on not cutting himself with the knife that he suspected should really be used for carving meat. It had been eight years since he had last seen her in person and still he felt exactly the same about her; irritation, annoyance and maybe most of all, frustration. But also other things, things he had repressed for ages and was going to keep repressing for everyone's well-being.

"Hey, Rach" he called. "I saw your review in the New York Times on your show. How does it feel to be the _the star of Broadway_?"

She giggled and almost blushed and if she had done this in High School he might have rolled his eyes at this, but he was older now and wiser and she deserved to be happy. After Finn died, she wasn't happy for a very long time.

"Don't get her started" Santana said, but without edge to her voice.

They had all gotten nicer. Everyone except Quinn, perhaps.

"What about you, Noah?" Rachel asked. "You live in Detroit?"  
"Yeah" he said. "Came back from the army without any real career options so went back to Burt's shop and then he sold it but knew some guy how had worked at a car factory in Detroit who had opened a new shop there and… Well, it's not that interesting."  
"Of course it is" Rachel said.

"Nah. It's not Broadway."

"Not everyone wants to be on Broadway" Quinn said.

Puck couldn't tell if she was on his side or if she was just stating a fact. Her hair was covering her face.

"And I'm very happy for it" Rachel agreed.

Puck went back to slicing. Quinn mixed something. Santana poured wine into a large pan. Rachel went over to open the huge patio doors. Puck wondered if he was supposed to say something, to get conversation going, but he couldn't think of what. Santana drank lazily from the bottle while Rachel set the table outside and winked at Puck when he noticed.

"When are the others coming?" he asked.

"Any minute" she replied. "Wouldn't have thought you were going to be the first one. Have you changed that much?"  
He laughed.

"No. Just couldn't wait to get away."

He thought he saw Quinn raise her eyebrows but she didn't say anything. She just kept mixing and he watched her hands doing it. He hadn't seen her in eight years. Or nine. It wasn't that strange that he couldn't stop looking at her.

"I see a car" Rachel almost screaming, running back into the house.

Santana discreetly put the wine bottle down on the counter.

"It's Tina and Mike, I think" Quinn said, peering out the window.

Puck sighed with relief. The more the merrier, he thought, or the more the less awkward.

…

"Are you going to be okay with this?" Santana asked, cornering her after lunch so that her back was pressed against the wall.

"Yes."  
"You haven't said a word since he arrived."

"That's not true."

"It's been like eight years ."

"I know."

Quinn leaned back against the wooden logs that were glued to walls to give it an _authentic _feel. Money clearly didn't equal taste, she thought and then hated herself for thinking it. She hated being this elitist.

"It's weird that neither of you have ever explained what happened" Santana said, staring her down with dark eyes.

"Like you said, it was years ago. Doesn't matter."

"Then why don't you even look at him?"  
"Shut up" Quinn snapped.

"And why does he seem to not be able to stop looking at you?"

Quinn elbowed her way passed her friend, into the kitchen and the safety of stacking dishes into the dishwasher. Sam was doing some impression and she pretended to get it and laugh. Her work kept her from watching TV or going to the movies or anything really, and pop culture references were now something she didn't understand. Henry always told her that it was one of the best things about her, how she didn't care about celebrities or gossip.

"More wine?" Rachel offered her.

She took the glass of red wine and downed it in one gulp. The grape was too sour. Henry would have spat it out and told Rachel so, but Quinn didn't. It was just wine.

"Let's go for a swim" Mike suggested and minutes later he, Tina, Puck, Brittany and Santana were all in the water.

Quinn filled up her glass of wine and stepped out on sandy beach with her shoes off. It wasn't New York but it was pretty nonetheless. The sun was setting over the trees on the bank across the water and she had to shade her eyes with one hand. Brittany screamed in glee as Sam dragged her underwater. Quinn felt older than them. Too old. Working at a law firm with only men in then fifties and then going home to her boyfriend who was a psychology professor also in his fifties had made in impact on her.

"I love this view" Rachel said, sidling up next to her. "I could look at it forever."

Quinn nodded. She averted her eyes from the beauty of the water and instead studied her former friends in it. Their bodies looked sleek and soft in the evening light. Puck stood with the back to her. He threw his head back and laughed. She closed her eyes and felt her phone buzz in her blazer pocket. She picked up and answered. Mr. Lewis's voice evoked something in her that made her stand up straighter and speak formally; it was almost like a Pavlov reflex.

"Yes" she said. "Yes, I'm here."

She turned and walked away from the loud screams and laughs from the water.

…

When she came back, almost twenty minutes later, they were all still in the water. Despite that it was only May and despite that the sun had set. Rachel had joined them, splashing around in a tiny, white bikini. Brittany was doing handstands where the water was shallow. Her legs extended endlessly towards the dark sky.

"Hey, Q" Santana called. "Come in, get in."

Quinn shook her head.

"It's freezing."

"How do you know?" Sam called to her. "You haven't tried it."  
He came stumbling out of the water, blonde and gorgeous and she could remember why she had let him love for her months. She hadn't seen or spoken with him in maybe three years, not since he had come to New York to see Rachel in whatever show she was in back then. She remembered that he had said something about getting married. He wasn't wearing a ring so maybe she was remembering it wrong. She couldn't even recall where he lived now or what he did for a living.

"Please don't touch me with those wet hands" she warned him.

He grinned at her and lifted her off her feet. She shrieked and screamed and kicked. She thought of her expensive blouse and Karen Miller skirt and most importantly of her phone. In the last second, she managed to find it and through it onto the sand before Sam plummeted into the cold water.

"Let me down" she told him and he let go.

She fell from his arms, below the surface and felt her head freeze with shock. Why anyone chose to swim voluntarily in ice cold lake water, she did not understand. When she broke the surface, she wanted to slap him. They weren't kids anymore, it wasn't _fun _to ruin someone's clothes. But she didn't say anything because Puck was watching and she knew didn't want to make a scene.

"I'll get you back for that" she threatened Sam.

He grinned.

"Nice bra."

She looked down. Her sheer blouse had become completely see-through. Sam giggled at the sight of her underwear. Her first thought was the he was being childish. He was almost thirty, he must have seen girls in their bras before, hell, he had seen her in her bra before.

"Don't be ashamed of your boobs, Q" Santana told her.

"Believe me, I'm not" she said tersely, even if she kind of was.

She hadn't met these people in years and the first impression she was giving off was showing a bit more than she had intended. But then again, who cared? She sighed loudly. The skirt she wore felt heavy and constricted now that it was filled with water. She headed for the beach again.

"Come on" Brittany said. "Don't get up. Me and San want to do our old cheerleading routine and she says she's that you're too stiff to do it."

"She's probably right" Quinn agreed.

There was no way she would be able to do jumps or splits in a pencil skirt anyway. She carried on up the beach until she found her phone. It looked fine. Thank god she had been able to save or Mr. Lewis would have fired her.

"Let her go" she heard Santana say. "Give her a few days to adjust back to being a real person."

"What is that supposed to mean?" she asked.

Santana didn't reply and Quinn suddenly wanted to go home.

…

"She's been like this for ages" Santana complained as they sat on the patio, smoking a cigarette each, both wrapped in big towels.

"Then why do you keep being friends with her?" he asked.

"She's a good person."  
He actually laughed.

"Is that your reason? Priests are good people. Doctors, maybe. She's not."

"Shut up."

"I'm just telling you the truth."  
"She's not that bad and you know it."

He raised his eyebrows. They were waiting to take a shower. The house was great in many ways but it only had two bathrooms so they had to wait until Brittany, Sam and the others were done before they could stop shivering like mad. The swim had seemed like a good idea before they had to sit outside and freeze for an hour.

"I think it's her boyfriend. I never liked him."

"Isn't he like fifty years old?"  
"Yeah, something like that. I only met him once, at her college graduation."

"Maybe she likes to be bored out of her mind."

"God, Puck, what did she do to you that made you hate her so much?" she asked.

"I don't hate her" Puck replied, but sometimes he thought that he did.

Santana sniggered.

"I'm actually surprised she even agreed to come. She never says yes to anything. Not even a movie or a drink or anything. She didn't even see Rachel in _Rent_."

"It's difficult to say no to you" he said, nudging her side.

She laughed.

"I'm glad you're here" she said. "Most of these people are completely mad."

"No" he said. "They're normal. You're the one who is used to crazy New York people."

"Why are you still in Detroit?" she asked. "Don't you hate it?"  
"I don't hate it" he disagreed, but sometimes he thought that he did hate that too.

"New York has everything. And there are a lot of cars. I bet they need a mechanic."

He shrugged.

"I can't just pack up and leave."

"Why not? What's keeping you there? A girlfriend you haven't told me about?"  
"No, not really. Maybe. I don't know."  
He thought of Cindy. She lived next door and regularly she knocked on his door with a pan of something almost edible and they'd have sex on the couch. She wanted more, he knew it, but he didn't. Being with her would be like settling. He had settled on everything else, the city he lived in, where he worked, who he was. One more thing and he would have to reevaluate his entire life.

"A shower is available" Quinn said, standing in the door way.

She was wearing slacks and had her hair down. She immediately looked five years younger and five times as beautiful. It wasn't fair.

"I'll take it. I'm freezing my ass off" Santana hurried to say and left.

Quinn was still hovering in the entrance.

"Rachel wonders if you can manage the grill" she said.

Her voice was perfectly even. She sounded like a robot. Or a lawyer. Even if she wasn't any of those things.

"Sure" he replied.

She nodded and left. He watched her go. If she had showed any inclination to make up, he would have made an effort to try. However, she hadn't and wouldn't and for once, he wanted her to be the one to take the first step.

…

Five minutes into dinner, Quinn realized that she knew nothing about her old friends. Literally, nothing. All they all seemed to know things about each other, seemed to have kept in touch over the years, despite distance and school and starting families. She felt like the odd one out.

"Let's all recap our lives" she said and tried force the desperation out of her voice.

It was hard to start a conversation with someone when you had no idea where they lived or if they were married or whatever.

"You start then" Sam said.

"Okay" she said slowly. "I'm a paralegal at Lewis & Stroke. In New York City."

She examined their faces. In lawyer circles, when she said that she worked at Lewis & Stroke, she would receive raised eyebrows or some kind of praise. Here, however, she got nothing. They had no interest in prestigious law firms.

"What happened to the acting thing?" Mike asked.

"I switched majors. I… I realized that it wasn't really a reliable career option."

She saw Santana and Rachel exchange a look. She wasn't criticizing their decisions to become _performers _but they couldn't argue the fact that they made less money than she did and faced a ton more disappointments.

"What about that boyfriend of yours?" Puck asked. "Or can you say _boyfriend _about a middle aged man?"

She flinched at the sound of his voice. She thought they were going to be civil to each other. Cold, but civil. She had counted on it. That was how she had planned on surviving this week.

"Yes, I have a partner" she said, the word that Henry used for her. "We met at Yale."  
"Wasn't he your professor?" Puck asked.

His cheeks were flushed. Maybe he was drunk. Or maybe he just hated her. She didn't care. She had been mistaken for Henry's daughter too many times to be humiliated.

"Yes" she said, her voice steady and calm. "Yes, he was."  
"Sexy" Brittany giggled.

"He got another job at Colombia right around the time I left Yale, so I moved with him to New York."

"So, you've been with him for like? Ten years?" Tina asked.

She thought about it. The first three years didn't count. He had still been married then. She had been an affair, a girl on the side, something she was sure he had had before her. It wasn't until her senior year was ending that he told her that he and Mary were getting a divorce and that he planned for Quinn to move with him to New York. She had been shocked at first because she had always seen their relationship as almost platonic, but with sex. She didn't love him and didn't think he loved her. Obviously, she had been wrong.

"Not really" she replied to Tina. "I guess we got together four years ago."

"Before that you were just the lover, right?" Puck asked her.

She chose to ignore him. If Henry had been here, he would have whispered the same thing in her ear. They were better than all these people, the ones who didn't understand.

"Four years is still a long time" Tina said, and clamped Mike's hand above the table. "We're soon at five."

"Married for two" he chimed in.

They went on to share their life story, like they didn't have two separate ones, but only one. They had both come back for Christmas during college and fell in love _anew _and now they had a three year old who was spending the week with Tina's mom. It was the first time they were spending that much time away from their daughter. Tina got weepy whilst explaining this.

"It's nice that there's still a couple among us" Rachel said softly and they all thought of Finn until Santana spilled wine all over herself.

…

"It's no use" she told him. "You can't me feel anything anymore. Not shame or humiliation. Nothing."  
Her voice was low. This was the way she had spoken to girls on the cheerleading squad in High School. It scared them back then but it didn't scare Puck now. He smiled.

"Really? Nothing?"  
"No."  
"Then why did you feel like you had to tell me that?"

Most of the guests were still at the dinner table, laughing loudly. Puck had gone outside to make sure that the grill was properly turned off. Mr. and Mr. Berry would never forgive him if he ruined it. She had followed, willingly, just to tell him that she felt nothing.

"Just leave me alone" she snapped.

Probably it would have sounded more threatening if she was still wearing her power suit and eyeliner. In comfortable clothes and with no makeup, she just looked like Quinn Fabray. A girl like anyone else. An especially beautiful girl, of course. A girl who had broken his heart too many times to remember. Well, maybe it was scarier when she looked like this.

"Fine" he said.

"I didn't come here to fight."  
"I think you did. Or you could have just have stayed inside with the others."  
"I mean, here, to this reunion thing. I didn't come here to fight with you."  
"Alright."  
"Just behave for six more days and you'll never have to see me again."

"Sounds good to me."  
She stood still for a second, watching him intently. He had a feeling that she was about to say something else, but she didn't. She bit her lip. He thought for umpteenth time that he wished that she wasn't that damned beautiful. That would have made his life so much easier.

"Okay" she said finally.

She went back inside. Puck took a deep breath and pretended to check the grill an extra time. He hadn't said this many words to her in years. Of course, when you met someone for the first time in a long time, everything was a first. He thought of Cindy, his long-legged neighbor who was taking in his mail this week. He thought of Cindy and hated that he couldn't remember what her face looked like. She had already faded from his memory.

…


	2. Chapter 2

Quinn woke up hours before anyone else. Santana and Brittany lay close together in the bed the three of them shared. She felt left out, as she often had in their friendship, despite the fact that Brittany and Santana hadn't dated for years. Santana had new girlfriends every week. She was the girl that straight movie stars pretended to date to be _edgy_. Quinn decided to get up and have some breakfast before anyone else woke up. She tiptoed out of the bedroom and closed the door behind her. Rachel had bought food to feed an entire army and Quinn found some yoghurt which she ate on the deck, facing the water.

"You're up early" Sam said.

He came from the beach, sweaty and shirtless, evidently back from a run.

"You too."

"Couldn't sleep. Mike kept talking in his sleep. What's your excuse?"

"I always get up at six am, it's a habit."  
He sat down next to her on the wooden steps facing the water. He looked the same, of course, like the pretty boy he was. She wondered if he still did modelling. She wondered if it was too revealing of her lack of knowledge if she asked.

"Sorry for throwing you in the water yesterday" he said.

"Oh. It's okay" she sort of lied.

"It was supposed to be make you smile."  
"I know."

She picked up the cup of coffee she had made for herself and drank it. It didn't taste as good as the one Henry made her every morning, but the view was better. And Sam wasn't bad company. He was nice. He had always been nice. Naïve, maybe, but nice.

"Remember when you sort of asked me to marry you?" she asked, smiling, falling into the trap of nostalgia for the first time.

"Yeah, seems like ages ago" he smiled.

They had been different people then. Or at least she had. It had been the post-Beth year, she remembered very little from the year.

"It really does."  
"Hurt like hell, though."  
"What did?" she asked.

"When Puck got out of juvie and kicked my ass for it."

She frowned at him. She couldn't remember that.

"Did he?"  
"Yeah, you didn't know?"

"No."

"Never seen him that pissed in my life" Sam grinned. "It's probably a good thing that you and I broke up or he might have really killed me."  
"Yeah" she mumbled.

"Good thing he's over you or your _older boyfriend_ might have gotten a black eye too" Sam chuckled.

…

He watched them from the kitchen, sitting side by side, talking, laughing. Immediately he felt irritation against Sam. Of course, they weren't kids anymore and it wasn't about picking sides, but Puck had still imagined that Sam would have picked his. Everyone knew that Puck and Quinn didn't speak, even they didn't know why. Sam didn't seem to care, laughing to something she said as if it was no big deal.

"If looks could kill…" Santana teased him.

"Shut up."  
"Aren't we allowed to speak to her at all?"  
"Did I say that?" he muttered.

"No, but your face kind of implies it."  
He turned his back on Santana and on the windows facing the lake. He didn't want Quinn to ruin this week for him, the first week in ages he had been able to leave Detroit. She had been right yesterday, the best thing would be if they just ignored each other.

"Maybe you should just _talk it out_" Santana sighed.

"We have."

"Really?"

"We agreed to stay away from each other until we leave again."  
"Wow. That's a great idea" Santana yawned.

Puck ate his breakfast inside, with his back facing the deck. Everyone else went outside to sit in the sun and watch the lake, but he didn't feel like it.

"Why aren't you coming outside?" Sam asked him.

"Don't feel like it" Puck muttered.

"Okay!" Sam grinned, not hearing the dull tone in Puck's voice. "Hey, why didn't you ever tell Quinn about you bashing my face in after I proposed to her back in High School?  
Puck turned to face him. Was that what they had been talking about? About his jealousy? About the fact that one of his best friends had started to date the only girl he had ever liked, when he himself was in juvie?

"I don't know" he replied. "It never came up."

Sam chuckled, as if it was all a joke.

"Wanna go for a swim?" he asked.

"No" Puck mumbled. "I'm still eating."  
"Hey, are you pissed at me or something?" Sam asked, finally picking up on the vibe.

"No, why should I be?" Puck retorted.

Sam shrugged and went outside again.

…

Of course, ignoring each other wasn't easy. It could have been if Rachel had just let him all be adults but no, this was a _reunion _and they all had act like kids again.

"This is a game to make us reconnect" she said.

Puck stole a glance at Quinn. She looked annoyed but not surprised. She had probably known what Rachel had been planning. Her pessimism made him decide to enjoy the activity.

"Rachel, it's going to rain" Quinn said, just like he had known she would. "Maybe we play tomorrow."  
"It's not going to rain" Rachel argued.

Quinn said nothing, but looked up at the ever-greying sky. It was going to rain. She was right.

"What's the game, Berry?" Santana asked.

"I'm going to divide us into teams and then every team will receive a list of missions. The team that is done first gets a prize!"

"What's the prize?" Kurt asked rather dryly.

He also looked somewhat skeptical to the outdoors activity.

"It's a surprise" Rachel replied. "But remember, even if you don't win, you still get to reconnect with our old friends!"  
Puck forced himself to not roll his eyes. He had no problem with these people. He even liked them, however, he felt too old to go on some treasure hunt in the rain. They had a nice deck, they had beer, they had each other. Wasn't that enough?

"Team One: Quinn, Mike, Tina and Puck."  
He groaned. This was a Rachel's idea a reunion, making Quinn and Puck work together in some stupid challenge. He knew Quinn would back out. She would make some lame excuse and he would be alone with the married couple. It was fine. He didn't want to be with her anyway.

"Good luck" Santana hissed jovially.

"Are you in on this?" he muttered back.

She grinned and winked. Fuck all of them. Tina and Mike moved in closer to him, hand in hand, looking as in love as anyone could be.

"Should be fun, eh?" Mike said.

"Yeah" Puck said disheartened.

Quinn walked closer to them too. She was still looking up at the sky. He waited for her to excuse herself, to make up some lie, to wave her cellphone around. But she didn't. She didn't look super excited either though.

"Here you go, Team One" Rachel said, giving them their list.

Mike took it and held it out for his wife to read. Quinn inspected her nails. Puck inspected everything but her.

"We're going to win" Tina giggled.

"And even if we don't, it's still wonderful time spent with our friends" Puck muttered.

Quinn pulled a face.

…

The first task was to find three different types of flowers. Tina took the lead and headed out into the forest. Quinn wished she had brought a raincoat from New York but she hadn't thought that they would be playing games in the woods for entire day. She wouldn't have guessed that Rachel Berry was this fond of wild life.

"Do we need to know the name of flowers too?" Mike asked his wife.

She replied no. Quinn walked after them. They looked happy. They had had a white wedding and a child. Still, they lived in Lima so their life couldn't be that great. Puck took up the rear of the group. She hadn't been surprised to end up in his group. Rachel meant well but she needed to keep her nose out of other people's business. "Fixing" Puck and Quinn wasn't a little project she could occupy herself with now that her show was off season.

"Look, here's a yellow one" Tina exclaimed and bent down to pick a rather ugly flower.

Quinn felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. She stopped to answer it as the other three walked on. Mr. Lewis was upset. Hannah had filed some papers wrongly and he couldn't find them. It took her five minutes to guess where they could have ended up. She had to hurry to catch up with the others.

"You must have a very important job" Mike said when she finally reunited with the group.

"Not really" she said.

"Your mother thinks so" Tina grinned. "She's so proud, tells anyone who wants to listen about her lawyer daughter."  
"I'm actually not a lawyer yet."

"The pride of Lima" Puck said ironically, ignoring her comment.

"Shut up" she retaliated.

"Don't be modest, Quinn" he said. "Our Yale girl. We should proud of the fact that you are gracing us with your presence."

Mike and Tina laughed as if it was a joke. It wasn't. He wasn't even trying to hide the passive aggressive tone in his voice. It wasn't like she was ashamed of her education, but he seemed to think that all of it had been handed to her. He hadn't been there for the nights before the exams when she had studied until her nose bled and stayed awake until her fingers shook with exhaustion. She had fought hard for her degree, all through law school and it had given her a job at one of the best law firms. She had applied herself. She had worked. What had he done? Served in the army. Fixed cars. Ruined her life.

"Look, here's another yellow one" Mike said, picking another flower from the ground.

"Isn't it the same one?" Tina asked.

"I don't know."

They discussed the petals with their heads close together. Puck leaned against a tree. Quinn looked up at the sky for the umpteenth time. It was going to rain soon. And they weren't even done with the first task.

"What's the verdict, Changs?" Puck asked finally.

"Sadly, it's the same" Mike said, shrugging.

Quinn exhaled. She was cold. She felt uncomfortable in her skirt and heeled shoes. She kept sinking an inch into the soft ground at every step. Her frustration with Rachel, with the happily married couple and with Puck rose every second.

"Maybe we should forfeit" she suggested half-heartedly.

Tina had found another flower and wasn't listening.

"This game below you, honey?" Puck asked her.

She snorted.

"Don't pretend like you're enjoying it."

"At least I'm not taking business calls."

"Well, who would call you?"

He raised his eyebrows.

"Good point, Q. I_ am _my own boss."

"Must be very empowering" she snarled.

"Yeah, thanks."

"Hey" Mike said softly. "Please don't fight."

Quinn turned her head away from all of them. She contemplated going back to the house but they were too far into the forest. She would probably get lost.

"We have two flowers now" Tina said. "Let's just find one more, okay?"  
Quinn nodded.

"Yeah" Puck said.

…

They found a third flower and continued on. The next task was to climb the highest tree they dared and take a photo from the top. Quinn pointed at her tight skirt and announced that she was not climbing any tree. Puck didn't volunteer either. In the end, Mike climbed a fairly high tree and took a photo which he sent to Rachel as proof.

"Just one more thing on the list" Tina said happily.

Quinn's phone rang again. Mr. Lewis had another problem with finding files. She stopped once more to think where he could find the Hanson case files. When she finally hung up, Tina, Puck and Mike were gone, out of her sight. And it started to rain. Heavy drop of rain fell out of the grey sky and soaked her within a minute.

"Thanks" she muttered to no one and walked in the direction where the three others had disappeared.

The rain didn't stop. It fell into her face and her eyes, making it hard to see anything. She even tried calling out after the others, but no one answered. And she had none of their phone numbers. Finally, she decided to hide under a dense pine until the rain subsided and she could find her way back. She took her shoes off; they were ruined. _Thanks Rachel_.

"Quinn?"

She peeked out from the branches. Puck had come back. He was wet too. He hadn't seen her yet.

"Here I am" she called.

"Under a fucking tree?" he asked. "You learn that in _Brownies_?"  
He lowered his head and made his way in under the branches as well. The rain was still heavy. He sat down next to her.

"Where's Tina and Mike?" she asked.

"We ended up almost back at the house. They ran inside."

"What about you?"  
"Well, I knew that Rachel would blame me if you starved to death."

She smiled politely. This wasn't the plan. She wasn't supposed to sit next to him under some tree in the rain. She was supposed to ignore him for the rest of her life.

"Nice look" he said, nodding at her face.

"Yeah, well. I said that it would rain."

"Yeah" he agreed. "You did. A few times."

She rolled her eyes at him but he only smiled. She realized that he had been joking, not passive aggressively and not meanly. He had just been joking. She almost felt bad for the eye roll. Almost.

"Can you find the way back to the house?" she asked in a more pleasant tone.

"Think so, you want to go now?"  
She peered through the branches. Was it possible that the rain was coming hard faster now than before?

"Let's wait until it subsides at least a little bit" she suggested.

"Fine with me."

…

She had mascara all over her face. Her hair was plastered to her head. The blouse she was wearing stuck to her skin. He liked her better like this; without the eyeliner, the nice up do and fancy clothes. She looked more real, more like an actual person now. Less like the person she had become in his absence.

"Your shoes are ruined" he said.

"Thanks for information" she muttered.

She hadn't thanked him for coming back for her, not even a little inclination that she was grateful for not being alone. Not that he had expected it, but still…

"I should have stayed in New York" she said. "This is miserable."

"Two days in the row, you end up wet" he grinned.

"At least Sam apologized."

"Was that what you were talking about today? I thought you were talking about me" he said.

"Why should we be talking about you?" Quinn asked.

She kept tapping her phone to check that it hadn't died.

"Sam said you talked about me beating him up."

"Yeah, well, he brought it up" she said.

She gave up her on her phone and stuck it under her shirt, probably in her bra, to keep it dry. He saw a glimpse of her skin. It had goose bumps. It gave him goose bumps too.

"You never told me that" she said. "You never said that you gave him a black eye."  
"I knew that you wouldn't like it."  
"We weren't really speaking then, you and me, I mean" she recalled.

"I know. I had no right to punch your boyfriend. Yada yada. Spare me the lecture."  
He was digging his fingers into the moist soil to have something to do with his hands. This was the longest he had spoken to her in years. And without fighting. This wasn't really fighting, was it?

"How was the army?" she asked, her voice drenched in sarcasm, changing the tone of the conversation entirely.

Now they were going to fight. He knew it. Maybe he had jinxed it by thinking that they were actually kind of getting along. The rain was subsiding now too. They could leave. But apparently she wanted to talk about this now.

"I left it like seven years ago" he replied.

"Really" she said tonelessly.

"Yeah, it was only eighteen months."  
"_Only_" she echoed.

"And I survived" he stated.

"Clearly."

"Did you know that I came back alive?" he asked. "Or didn't you care?"  
"I knew" she replied. "And I didn't care."  
"Right."  
It was only drizzling now and the house was only a few minutes away. They could leave now but neither of them stood up. Clearly her plan of ignoring each other wasn't working. Perhaps it was better to attempt to clear the air. Once and for all.

"I came to see you when I came back" he said. "Did you know?"

"No" she said. "I told you that I didn't want to see you."

"Well, I came anyway. You were still at Yale then."  
"Oh, I hope you enjoyed the campus."

"I saw you with him. The man. The professor."

"Henry" she corrected him.

"Yeah, I don't really care what he's called."

"Henry. My partner..."  
"Stop saying that. It sounds weird."  
She rolled her eyes. He looked away from her face. He was cold now, freezing the bone. He longed for a shower, for a beer, to talk to someone who didn't hate him. And still he stayed.

"It wasn't forever, Quinn" he said. "It was eighteen months. You couldn't wait that long?"  
She didn't respond for a long time. He thought that she was going to ignore him, but in the end, she took a deep breath.

"It wasn't about the time."

"No?"

"I didn't want you to go at all. I begged you not to."  
Her voice was different. Softer. Lighter. More childlike. Gone were the New York attitude and the Lawyer confidence.

"Let's not have this fight again" he almost begged. "I had to go. You know I had to. I had already signed up."  
"You could have made an excuse, made something up."

"I didn't want to."  
"I know" she said. "That was the problem."

"Finn had just died and…" he began.

"Yes" she said. "He had just died. I didn't want to lose you too."

"We talked about this-"  
He was interrupted by her phone which began to ring beneath her clothes. She sighed and fished it out.

"It's Santana" she said, pressing the green button on the screen. "Hey. We're coming back now."

When she hung up, they both got to their feet. She held her shoes in her hands, walking barefoot on the muddy ground. Puck guided the way. They didn't speak a single word during the entire walk.

…

"Stop looking at me like that" he muttered to Santana.

She sat next to him on the couch, sharing the blanket Rachel had covered him with after his long and hot shower. Everyone else seemed to have escaped the rain fairly well. He would have too, if hadn't gone back for Quinn.

"Did you have a nice moment in the forest?" Santana asked pointedly.

"Just give it up" he sighed. "_Please_."

"Rachel won't. She'll keep pairing you up together."

"Well, tell her not to."

"She's a hopeless romantic" Santana said. "She'll never give up."  
"There's nothing romantic between Quinn and me. There hasn't been for like ten years."

"Still, you went back for her. To find her in the woods. Seems kind of romantic" Santana argued.

"Just give it up, okay?" he begged.

She shrugged. He wasn't pressing her about Brittany, even though they had too been paired together by Rachel. He was giving her space. He was being a better friend.

"I guess Rachel just has this idea of everyone moving to New York. She has this romantic image of us living some kind of artsy, cultural life and marrying each other and living happily forever" Santana continued.

"Maybe she needs to find someone to marry herself" he said.

"Believe me, I've been telling her that for years" Santana sighed.

Puck angled his head so that he could see Rachel in the kitchen, chopping vegetables with Kurt and Mercedes. She was probably the most successful person here and perhaps also the unhappiest.

"She means well" he admitted.

"She does" Santana agreed. "Still irritating as hell, though."  
"Yeah" he grinned.

He lifted his beer from the sofa table and took a big swig. He should probably help with dinner but suddenly felt wiped out.

"You should still move to New York, you know" she said. "Even if it's not to marry Quinn Fabray."  
"Hey, lower your voice" he muttered. "People might get ideas."

"Seriously though" she went on, ignoring him. "Detroit sounds fucking boring."  
"It is" he said without thinking.

"New York is not. New York is everything" she said.

"So you keep saying. I just don't think it's for me."

"What if Quinn lived somewhere else, would it be an option then?" she asked.

"Not everything is about her" he sighed.

"Maybe not, but a lot of things seem to be."

…

"It's a reunion, in my experience, they are always ridiculous" Henry told her.

"Yeah, but this is too much" she exhaled. "We're too old to play games."

Everyone else was downstairs, preparing dinner and drinking wine. Quinn had sought solidarity to be able to speak to Henry in peace, her most prominent link to her real life. His low, calm voice was always soothing, always comforting.

"No one's forcing you to be there" he reminded her kindly.

"I can't leave."

"If it's bad enough-"

"No, I literally can't leave. I don't have a car and God only knows where the closest bus station is."  
He laughed as if it was a joke. She leaned back against the headboard of the Queen sized bed she was sharing with Santana. She still felt cold despite her fifteen minute long shower.

"Santana's there right?" he asked. "And Rachel?"

"Yes."

"There you go. You have your friends!"

"You don't even like them" she said. "You said that they are naïve and self-involved in their strive for stardom."

She could quote his opinions, word by word. They had been together that long. She knew him that well. And he had never really said a good word about her friends.

"Well…" he said. "Well, I'm not saying that those two are the best influence on you but this is a special circumstance."

"I'm not a child" she told him. "No one can _influence _me."

"We never stop evolving, Quinn. That's the beauty of the human nature. You know that, I taught you that in college, didn't I?"  
He probably had. She had been to every single one of his lectures, always sitting in the back, thinking that he was speaking to her. In the end, it turned out that he had been looking at her from the first minute of the first class. It was the beginning of a wonderful love story.

"Five and half days left" she said.

"That's nothing" he said.

"Don't you miss me?" she asked, becoming the needy girlfriend she hated to be.

"Quinn, you've been gone about 36 hours."

"Right."  
"Have you had any time to study for yet?"  
"No" she replied. "Maybe tonight."

"Good. Don't get distracted."

"I won't" she promised.

They hung up. She stayed in bed under the covers for another fifteen minutes before getting up. In Santana's bag she found a large college sweater and pulled it on..She was too frozen for her own thin cardigans.

"Good for you, Quinn Fabray, you look more alive now" Kurt commented as she came down the stairs.

He handed her a glass of white wine. She sipped it. It tasted better than the red from last night.

"Can I help you with something?" she asked.

He shook his head.

"I think we're okay. Sit down for a bit."

She nodded and headed for couch. However, she realized quickly that it was already occupied. Puck and Santana sat close together, under a blanket, her head on his shoulder. He turned his face to look at her when he heard her footsteps, opening his mouth as if he was about to say something. She took a mouthful of wine.

…

"What did Henry say?" Rachel asked.

Quinn leaned her back against one of the counters. They were making vegan lasagna. Henry would have laughed at it. All these kids who drove cars, flew airplanes and bought a huge amount of clothes, trying to compensate by eating vegan food.

"Nothing special" she said.

She had her back against the living room now. Not that she cared what Puck and Santana did, but it was confusing. She had never understood their relationship. And perhaps she had wished that Santana would have chosen her side in this conflict.

"You must miss him" Rachel went on airily.

No, Henry didn't really like her friends, but equally, Rachel and Santana had no warm and fuzzy feelings about him either. They thought that he was too old, too stuffy and the reason why she never had time to _hang out_. He was probably the reason that Rachel was determined to pair her back up with Puck.

"Yes, I do" Quinn said, even though she wasn't really sure it was true.

She missed New York and the safety she felt there, but as Henry had pointed out, she had only been gone 36 hours. He had been gone for conferences for a week at a time before and it had never really bothered her. They weren't teenagers, _craving _each other's love. They had an adult relationship, built on consideration and respect, she thought, once again quoting Henry.

"It's nice to get away though" Rachel said. "Isn't it? From work and the city and…"

"Working on Broadway isn't picnic, is it?"

"No" Rachel replied. "But I love it. You are the only one who understands. We both work so hard for what we love."  
Quinn smiled, thinking of how Rachel had never really had a real job in her life. She sang and danced in front of a doting audience every night. Quinn studied and sweated and got yelled at if they lost a case. It was probably easier to love being a Broadway star than a paralegal.

"I promise to come and see your show" she promised. "Sorry for missing so many of them."

Rachel's face lit up. Quinn immediately felt bad for declining the free tickets that Rachel always sent her, one for her and one for Henry. He didn't understand musical theatre, he said and she could understand him. That was also the reason that she had never told him how much she had loved doing _West Side Story_ in High School.

"I think you'll like it" Rachel said, talking about her new show. "It's very dark. Moody. You know."  
Quinn didn't ask why she thought that Quinn would enjoy something like that. Maybe she didn't have the sparkly personality her mother had hoped for.

"Hey, Q" Santana shouted from the living room. "Come here for a second?"

Quinn sighed, let Rachel refill her wine glass and then made her way back to the couple on the couch. Wasn't Santana supposed to be a lesbian? Why did she have to have her legs in Puck's lap?

"What?" Quinn asked.

"Is this a good time for you to look over that contract I mentioned? _Please_."

Quinn sighed again.

"Yeah, sure."

Santana jumped to her feet.

"You're the best" she told Quinn.

"What kind of contract?" Puck asked, as if they had not had a heart felt discussion of their past just an hour or two ago.

"Some pilot she's filming in LA during the summer" Quinn replied.

"It's not _some pilot_" Santana retaliated, bringing back a stack of papers. "It's a charming family comedy about a suburban family."

"What part do you play?" Puck asked, lifting one eyebrow.

"Well, it's a tiny part in the pilot, one of the daughter's friend, but they told me that it will get bigger."

"Hand it over" Quinn said, nodding against the huge amount of paper.

She sat down on the armchair next to her couch and read the contract, line by line. Nothing was really new to her after reading a few of these for Santana. They were always super vague of how much she was going to be on the show, if it got picked up, but also very unfair by tying her up for a long time even if it didn't last on the air.

"You're supposed to be sixteen?" Puck was saying. "No one's going to believe that."

"God, have you ever seen a sixteen year old playing a sixteen year old on TV?" Santana responded. "No. Because they are weird and pimply and have to like go to school."

"Still, no one had boobs like that in High School" he said.

"Shut up" Santana snarled.

Quinn cleared her throat. She had no interest in talking about the size of Santana's breasts with Puck. It just made everything weirder. If possible.

"Don't do it" Quinn said. "Don't sign it."

"What?" Santana said. "Why not?"

"It's the usual. If you do get picked up, you can't sign with anyone else for a year. A year, Santana, even if the show only lasts like three episodes."

"It won't get cancelled" Santana pouted. "One of the writers is that guy who wrote that comedy with Kristen Ritter."  
"Who?" Quinn asked.

"Yeah, I don't know either" Puck said.

Santana stood up to take the papers back. Quinn held them away from her.

"I always tell you not to sign, San. And you never listen" she said.

"Yeah, well, it has worked out this far."

"Yes, because nothing of what you have signed up has been picked up by a network."  
"What if I say no and this becomes like a big hit?" Santana asked desperately.

"How many lines do you have in the pilot?" Puck asked.

"It doesn't matter-"Santana began.

"One" Quinn replied in her place.

Santana reached once again for the contracts. Quinn once again tried to hold them away from her.

"Look, I'll look them over one more time, look for a loophole" she said. "Okay?"

Santana nodded.

…

He didn't know where she had found that sweater she was wearing. It was his. He hadn't seen it in a year or two. It was huge on her tiny frame. She probably didn't know that it was his or she wouldn't have touched it.

"What if the show becomes a hit, San" he said, distracting himself from Quinn who was studying the papers closely. "Will you move to LA?"

"Probably" Santana replied.

"Then what's with the campaign for me to move to New York?"

She shrugged.

"It's not just for me. You shouldn't live in that miserable city. Right, Q?"  
Quinn looked up.

"What?" she said.

She had bunched up the sleeves of the shirt. He had bought it before going into the army the first time, just after Finn had died. Black had seemed like the appropriate thing to wear then.

"New York beats Detroit" Santana clarified herself. "Right?"  
Quinn looked down again.

"I don't know" she said. "I've never been to Detroit."  
"It's not that bad" Puck said absentmindedly.

She had been upstairs for a long time, talking to her _partner_. Henry. He still couldn't understand how she could have ended up with a man twice her age. He still couldn't understand how she had chosen that old man before him. She could have waited eighteen months. And still, she was in his black sweater, with rolled up sleeves and knees hidden under the fabric, as if they were still together.

"Are you listening to me?" Santana asked, kicking him.

"No" he replied honestly. "What were you saying?"  
"You're not staying for that girl, are you?" she asked.

"Cindy?"

"The neighbor girl?"

"Yeah" he said. "Or no, I'm staying for her."

"Poor girl. You going to break her heart?" Santana asked.

"Nah" he replied.

Quinn hadn't turned the page in a long time. She was very still, as if she was listening to every word he was saying. He wondered if Santana had brought up Cindy to test her reaction. One part of him wanted to scream to everyone to stop meddling in their business. The other part was interested too in Quinn's reaction.

"She just takes in your mail?" Santana pressed on.

"Well, not _only_" he replied, deciding to pressure Quinn into reacting too.

"Bring her to New York then" Santana decided. "Any girl named Cindy would love _The Big Apple_."  
Quinn straightened her back and handed the documents back to Santana.

"I wouldn't sign it" she said, as if they hadn't even mentioned Cindy. "Get your agent to negotiate you a better contract, either without the one year thing or with more screen time."

"My agent sucks" Santana muttered. "Why can't you do it? Just call them and speak lawyer to them?"

"I'm not a lawyer yet" Quinn said.

She got up. Puck watched her leave. She was wearing his shirt. What did that mean?

…


	3. Chapter 3

The rain cleared up and Rachel decided that they should eat outside. Quinn was happy about Santana's thick sweater as she ate her lasagna in the chilly evening air. She actually felt herself relax a little bit as Sam told some story from his modeling days (evidently, he had quit now) and everyone laughed with him. Maybe it was her third glass of wine. Maybe it was the fact that Puck sat far away from her and the table was big. She barely even heard his voice all dinner.

"I can't believe it's been ten years" Tina sighed.

"I can't believe it hasn't been more" Kurt replied.

Quinn laughed. Yes, it was the wine. It had been a long time since she had been properly drunk, not since college. A glass of wine to Friday night dinner was a tradition, but not having her glass continuously refilled to the brim.

"How old is your kid?" she asked Mike.

Mike had always been kind to her. And they had never dated, never almost gotten married, never had had a baby together. He was safe.

"Three" he replied. "Can't believe it. This is the longest we've ever been away from her."

"I bet" she smiled.

She tried to picture his and Tina's life in Lima, married with a child. That life could have been hers. She could have married Finn if things hadn't played out like they had. Maybe he wouldn't have died then… No, she wouldn't think that. Or she could have married Puck, gotten a job as a secretary somewhere and raised their baby.

"And your kid is twelve" Mike said as if he was reading her mind.

"Not really my kid" she said.

"No, but still" he insisted. "Twelve. Wow."

"I know" Quinn said. "Only four years younger than I was when I had her."

In college she had thought a lot about Beth. It had been Henry's fault. He had poked and prodded that soft spot for years and it had helped. Of course, Henry's professional advice had always been to have joint sessions in therapy with Puck. Quinn had always refused and he dropped it after a while.

"Do you ever see her?" Mike asked.

"No" she replied. "Not really."

"Does he?" Mike went on, meaning Puck.

Quinn angled her face so that she could see Puck in the darkness. He was drinking beer and laughing at something that Artie was saying.

"I don't know" she said honestly.

"Probably not, right?" Mike said. "He wouldn't do it without you."  
Quinn smiled sadly.

"We don't have that kind of obligations towards each other" she said. "He can do whatever he wants."

…

They ended up hammered. At least most of them. The guys and Brittany decided to go skinny dipping in the lake. Quinn was glad no one carried her into the water this time. Instead she poured herself yet another glass of wine and leaned back in her chair. Mercedes was telling some story about a guy she had dated. Santana was smoking cigarette after cigarette, making Rachel whine about it affecting her vocal folds. In some ways, it was all the same. And in other ways, it wasn't.

"I should call my mother and ask how Penny is doing" Tina said.

"She's fine" Santana drawled. "Sit down!"

"You don't know what it's like to have a child" Tina argued, but sat down again all the same.

"No, and thank god" Santana exhaled. "Picture me with a kid? Ha!"

"Santana and I are both too dedicated to our work to even think about starting families" Rachel said.

"Yeah, but I make time for dating. You should try it" Santana replied.

"I don't like to see my face all over the tabloids just because I've been to dinner with some _celebrity_" Rachel pouted.

"Well, we all have different ways of climbing to the top, Berry."

It had been a long time since Rachel and Santana had had a real fight. Now all they did was squabble about who was most famous, a Broadway actress with a limited fan base or an actress whose best merits was that she had once dated Lindsey Lohan for publicit.

"Anyway, I can't believe the monogamy thing" Santana drawled on. "Married, Chang? Jesus. And Quinn, you're no better."

"You say it like it's a sin" Quinn sighed. "It's not a bad thing to want to share your life with someone."  
"No, but what about drinking rum on a Wednesday and puking in ttub? What about partying and dating and having one night stands with boys you don't even know the name of?" Santana asked, leaning closer to Quinn, as if this was an interview and Santana was interrogating her.

"I had my crazy teens" Quinn replied. "Remember? Had a baby? Got kicked out? Was depressed? Colored my hair pink? Rings any bells?"

She was drunk. God, she hated talking about those times and now she was doing it as if it didn't matter.

"Yeah, fine" Santana admitted. "But why do you have to be with a man twice your age?"

Quinn sighed loudly. When would people get over Henry?

"I don't know, San. Maybe daddy issues?"

Mercedes laughed. Rachel giggled. Santana smiled and lit another cigarette.

"You were the one who said it" she grinned.

"And you were all thinking it" Quinn said.

"The past messus up all of us" Rachel said, her voice blank again, no smile in her eyes.

Quinn didn't want to think about Finn. She looked out over the water instead. She could see the other's clothes scattered over the beach. She heard laughter.

"I'm going to join them" Santana announced.

"There's easier ways to get naked with Brittany" Quinn said boldly. "Just ask her."  
"Fuck off" Santana snapped. "If you didn't have so much pride, you would go with me."  
"No, I wouldn't" Quinn snapped back.

"There's easier ways to be with him than fighting" Santana said. "Just talk to him."

…

"Let's swim across the lake" Brittany suggested, jumping up and down in the water to keep warm.

"Nah" he said, crossing his arms across his chest and looked back towards the house.

"I'm sure she's still there" Brittany said, tugging on his arm. "Come _on_."

"What? Who? Quinn?"  
She nodded happily, innocently. Her hair was darkened by the water and the night.

"She'll be there when you come back too. Promise!"  
"I wasn't looking for her."

She shrugged and tugged his arm again.

"Let's swim" she begged.

"Aren't you cold?" he asked.

"Yes, that's why we should move around!"

He was shivering. It was cold as hell. Maybe skinny dipping had been a bad idea. The cold water had cleared his head; cleared the beer out of his mind. They both heard a splash and turned around. Santana was wading into the water, making small moans of pain on contact with its coldness.

"Hi!" Brittany called, waving.

"Idiots, it's freezing" Santana yelled.

"You get used to it" Puck lied.

Brittany was still holding on to his arm. He saw Santana eye them suspiciously. As if they had been secretly making out in the lake. _Jesus_.

"We're going to swim to the other side of the lake. Want to join?" he asked.

"Are you crazy? We'll drown."

"No, we won't" Brittany grinned. "I promise."  
Santana rolled her eyes.

"Fine. But if I die, neither of you will inherit anything!"

They began to swim. Shit. It was too cold. Maybe he was too sober to try this. The lake was huge.

"Isn't this your heaven, Puckerman?" Santana drawled. "Alone with two naked girls?"  
"I can't believe you're even thinking about that when it's this cold" he muttered back.

"Maybe it's the wrong naked girls?" she asked, feigning innocence.

"Shut up, San."

"Quinn's sadly still too stiff to strip in the lake. But she's on her like tenth glass of wine so who knows."  
"Do you want to ask her if she wants to come?" Brittany asked. "We can wait for you."  
"No" he replied. "Don't listen to Santana. I want nothing to do with Quinn."  
They swam in silence for a while. Puck's legs were cramping with the cold. His arms too. It had been a long time since he had really been swimming. His muscles were unused to the movements.

"It was nice how you went back for her" Brittany told him. "I wouldn't want to be alone in the woods in the rain."

"Me neither" he agreed. "Anyone would have done it."

"The Changs didn't" Santana remarked, panting slightly.

"Well, they're the idiots then" he muttered.

He looked back towards the shore. The light from the house looked ever so inviting. They could hear laughing.

"Fuck. It's too cold. Let's go back" he said.

"We're almost halfway across" Brittany said. "Let's just keep going."  
So they kept on. Puck longed to sit on the deck and drink beer. It had been stupid to attempt this swim. Strangely, neither Brittany nor Santana seemed to share this view. Santana wasn't even complaining anymore. They were talking quietly, giggling.

"I can stand on the bottom now!" Brittany announced.

Puck tried. He could too. His chest rose above the water as he stood up. Sadly, the night air felt just as cold as the water. And he had no clothes to put on.

"Shy, Puck?" Santana grinned.

"I've just been in a freezing lake for twenty minutes" he said. "I have a right to be shy."  
"Come on" Brittany said, standing on the shore, unashamed of her nakedness. "It's dark. No one will see anything."  
"And it's nothing we haven't seen before" Santana added.

The wind was chilly on their wet skin. And they had to go through the woods to get back. Why had he agreed to this? It was the stupidest idea ever.

"I'm beginning to regret this" he said.

Santana and Brittany didn't respond. They were giggling again. He thought that he should give them some privacy but he didn't want to get lost in the dark. Santana and Brittany could kick Quinn out of their bed later if they wanted to make out.

…

The other guys came back, shivering and laughing. Puck, Santana and Brittany didn't. Quinn peered towards the lake. They weren't in the shallow water. She couldn't hear their voices.

"Where's Santana and Brittany?" she asked.

"And Puck" Rachel added.

"I thought they were here with you guys" Sam said, shrugging.

Quinn leaned back against her chair. She wasn't going to worry about them drowning. They were healthy adults. But still, they had been drunk. And the water was cold.

"Go back and look for them" she said to Sam. "Please?"

"They are probably making out somewhere" Artie said. "They've been staring at each other all night."  
"What about Puck then?" she said, hating saying his name, hating the look on Rachel's face when she did.

"Maybe he joined them" Kurt said as a joke.

Some laughed. Quinn did not. She poured herself another glass of wine. She begged for someone else to react, to be worried, to search for them. She wasn't going to.

"Maybe Quinn's right" Rachel said, as if she was reading her mind. "Maybe something happened to them."  
"Don't worry" Mike said. "I'm sure they're okay. I saw them… getting intimate in the water. I'm sure they are enjoying themselves somewhere."

Quinn swallowed her wine in one gulp. She felt sick. Sick from too much lasagna and too much wine and sick of the image of Brittany, Santana and Puck in a threesome on some sandy beach. She was sick of all of them. Why did they act like they were stuck in High School? Why were they acting like horny teenagers?

"Cheer up, Quinn" Sam said. "I'll kiss you if you want to make him jealous when he comes back."  
He smiled sweetly at her. She sighed.

"I have boyfriend, remember?" she said. "I don't need to make anyone jealous."  
"A man friend" Rachel giggled.

Quinn rolled her eyes.

"It's cold. Let's go inside" she said, picking up her own plate and stacking Rachel's onto it.

"Are you not worried anymore?" Rachel asked, winking at her.

"They can take responsibility for their own actions."  
She craned her neck one more time to look out over the lake. This time she saw them, Santana, Puck and Brittany, stark naked running towards them. She shook her head.

"Guess they didn't die" she said before going inside to wash the dishes.

…

"Hey" he said. "_Hey_."

Quinn looked up from the kitchen sink where she was washing the plates from dinner. She was still wearing his thick sweater without knowing that it was his. He longed for it. Even though he had showered and dressed, he still felt shivery.

"Hello" she said dispassionately.

"That's my sweater."

She looked down onto her own chest, as if she had forgotten what she was wearing.

"No, it's Santana's."

"Actually, she stole it from me. It's mine."  
"Fine. You want it back?"

She dried her hands on a kitchen towel and started to tug at the sleeves in an aggressive way.

"Whatever" he muttered.

"No, wait" she said sarcastically. "Let me give you your ever so important sweater."

She pulled it over her head. He could see five inches of pale skin as she stretched her hands towards the ceiling. He had seen Brittany and Santana totally naked mere minutes earlier but the image of Quinn's lower stomach affected him more.

"Keep it."

"No" she said, shoving it into his chest. "Take it."

"Disgusted with it now that you know it's mine, right?"

"Shut up" she snapped, sticking her hands back into the water to keep washing the stack of plates.

He turned to leave her alone. No one was forcing her to clean dishes in the middle of the night. It could wait until tomorrow. He could have done it. Anyone could have. But no, she had to act the martyr.

"You're a bad friend" she said and he froze.

"What?"

"They've been flirting all day. They could have- I don't know- gotten back together, finally. But no, you have to interfere and turn it all into some gross threesome thing."

Her face had turned pink. She was still the kind of person that got embarrassed when forced to talk explicitly about sex.

"What are you talking about?" he sighed, leaning against the cupboards.

"Brittany and Santana."

"What about them?"

"Mike saw you. He saw you doing… Whatever, it doesn't matter. I just thought you wanted the best for them. I was stupid enough to think that you were going to be considerate and let them figure out their relationship. But instead, you make it even more confusing."

She was talking fast, sounding more and more hysterical for every word. The brush in her hand scrubbed the plates more and more frantically.

"Mike saw nothing" he said calmly. "We had no 'gross, threesome thing'."

"You just hung out with them? Naked?"  
"You make it sound like it would be impossible for me to control myself."

"Well…" she said pointedly.

"I don't like them in that way. Jesus. You're fucking paranoid."  
She shook her head.

"I wasn't the only one who thought it. We all did. Mike said-"  
"You were the only one who got pissed" he interrupted her.

"I'm the only one who cares about Santana."  
"Yeah right" he said, shrugging. "You sound jealous to me."

"Fuck off" she snarled.

He grinned, just to piss her off even more.

"Fine. You don't have to curse at me."  
He approached her and pressed the shirt back into her wet hands which she automatically pulled out of the dishwater. She glared at him. He glared back. He thought of their unfinished argument under the pine. He thought of the last time he had seen her, eight years ago. Or nine. They had fought then too. He was sick of fighting.

"Go to bed, Quinn" he sighed.

…

She did go to bed and crawled under the comforter on the left side of the double bed she shared with Santana and Brittany. She had almost fallen asleep when she heard them giggle. She heard the sounds of mouths meeting, of teeth clattering together, of hands making their way inside clothes. Immediately, she jumped to her feet. Santana turned her head to look at her. Her face was flushed.

"Were we disturbing you, Q? she asked breathily.

"Please, do carry on" Quinn muttered, leaving the room.

Sure, she had wanted them to rekindle their flame, but did they have to do with her sleeping right next to them? They could have ditched Puck in that lake for all she cared. Silently, Quinn opened the door to the room where Rachel, Mercedes and Tina were sleeping. They were sleeping three in a double bed and there was no room for her. She closed the door again. She had no other choice then to step into the third bedroom in which Puck, Mike and Sam slept. Sam was on a tiny, inflatable mattress. There was absolutely no room for her there.

"Mike" she hissed. "Mike?"

His bed was a little bit wider and he was thin. They could fit onto it and it would be safe. Mike was married. It would mean nothing.

"What?" he mumbled, opening his eyes.

"Can I share your bed?"

He sat up and squinted at her. He wasn't wearing a shirt. Why did guys always insist on sleeping shirtless? She was in a big Yale t-shirt and a pair of soft shorts.

"It's a pretty narrow bed, Quinn" he said kindly.

"I have nowhere else to go" she whined. "Santana and Brittany are making out all over our bed."

"Look, Quinn-"he continued.

"His wife wouldn't like it" Puck said from the twin bed next to Mike's. "He's just too polite to tell you that."

"Fine. I'll sleep on the couch" she muttered.

"Don't be an idiot" Puck told her.

His voice was raspy even though he hadn't slept for more than an hour at most. He sat up in his bed too. The bed linen was pink with white roses. There was probably no pattern in world that suited him less but he didn't seem to care. He scooted over and held up the comforter.

"Don't touch me" she warned him.

"I'll do my best" he swore.

The bed was warm and for the first time all night, she felt her muscles relax. She immediately clenched them again. She had sworn to avoid him. This was not avoiding.

"What's happenin'?" Sam asked, stretching his arms out. "Is it morning?"  
"Nah, Sammy" Puck said. "Quinn's just going to sleep here with us."  
She could feel his warm breath on the back of her neck when he spoke. He was that close. Why didn't the Berrys have more double beds?

"Nice bed linen" she muttered.

"I know" he said. "I picked this bed specifically for the pattern. You know how much I love roses."

"Very manly" she noted.

"I'm secure enough about my manhood."

She lay on the very edge of the bed. One more inch to the left and she would fall out of it. And one more inch to the right and her whole body would be touching his.

"Been a long time since you two slept together, huh?" Sam asked.

Quinn couldn't see his face but she would bet her life on that he had raised one eyebrow and was grinning stupidly.

"In both senses of the word, yes" Puck said.

He was acting very cavalier about this. Why didn't he feel the need to tighten every muscle in his body? Quinn worried what would happen when she fell asleep.

"Hey. What are you all doing?" Tina asked from the door way. "You woke me up."  
"Quinn needed somewhere to sleep" Mike explained. "Sorry."  
"It's fine" she smiled, coming into the room. "I didn't sleep well anyway. I'm not used to not sleeping next to you."

She leaned down and kissed her husband's mouth. Quinn closed her eyes. She didn't feel like looking at their perfect love. She thought of the fact that she hadn't even thought about if it would be difficult to sleep without Henry. She had spent almost every night during college alone in her dorm room and even when they began to live together, she had gone to bed much later than Henry almost every night since she had been in law school and the hours of the day had always seemed too few.

"You won't be able to fall asleep if you're that tense" Puck said quietly.

The others were talking about something else. He was speaking only to her.

"I'll be fine" she replied.

"I know this is weird-"  
"It's not" she said, too quickly. "We're friends, right?"  
"No, not really" he said.

"I guess not."

The both fell silent and listened to the others talking. Mercedes and Rachel had woken up too and came into the room to talk. They all sat in their underwear or pajamas and laughed and talked. Quinn lay silently with Puck's breath on her neck.

…

Rachel was telling some story from Broadway again. Puck had had a hard time listening. He was trying so hard not to seem bothered by the fact that Quinn was in his bed, mere inches from him. He could touch her by just extending a hand or shifting a leg. But she hadn't wanted him to. She had explicitly told him so. She smelled nice. He wondered how he smelled. Like lake water? Like sweat? Like toothpaste?

"Won't your girlfriend be bothered by this?" Quinn asked him.

She had her back against him so he couldn't see her face.

"Not as bothered as she would have been as if I would have had that threesome with the lesbian couple" she replied.

She snorted and rolled over onto her other side. Now she was facing him. She didn't look sleepy at all. It was three in the morning and she looked as awake as ever. He was too, he realized.

"I didn't really think that" she said.

"Right."

Sam was standing on top of his bed now, playing air guitar and singing loudly to the new Miley Cyrus song. Quinn giggled at it.

"She's not my girlfriend though" Puck said and she turned her face back to him. "I guess that was what you wanted me to say."

"It wasn't. I was just asking."

"Won't Henry mind?"

"He's not the jealous type."

"What if you told him that you spent the night with the father of your only child?"

She smiled sweetly.

"He would probably ask us to go to therapy together to work out our teenage trauma."  
"And if you told him that you were sleeping next to the guy who had a picture of you in his uniform in his pocket, day and night, during the time he served?"

She blinked.

"Did you?"

"Of course I did. What if Henry knew that you were this close to the guy that you would probably still be with if he hadn't gone back into the air force and you hadn't been so damn stubborn?"

She blinked again. He realized he had forgotten to breathe. Mercedes had joined Sam on his bed. They were singing a duet. Everyone was clapping their hands and cheering. Everyone but Santana and Brittany who were still in their bedroom. And everyone but Quinn and Puck.

"He trusts me" she replied finally.

"Alright" he said. "Alright."

"We wouldn't still be together even if none of that had happened."

"Why would we have broken up?" he asked.

He stared into her eyes. She said nothing. He said nothing. Mercedes did a song from her first album for old time's sake. Rachel joined in because she was Rachel and nothing could stop her from performing. Puck looked at Quinn and waited for her excuse but nothing came. She was quiet and stayed that way until both of them finally fell asleep.

…


End file.
